BodySwap
by VladimirsAngel
Summary: The conclusion of Raziel and the Angel's adventure....and it seems they're not the only ones having an identity crisis...~CHAPTER 10 UP...finished..~ *sits down and takes a deep breath*
1. Whose Dream is it Anyway?

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BODY-SWAP

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A one-off. Raz was feeling neglected, so I let him have free rein. Note to self: Never do this. Next time, you may not get your body back. 

Disclaimer: Raziel & Nosgoth were created by Crystal Dynamics and Eidos Interactive. 

Sometimes I have these dreams, you know? I guess everyone has one occasionally. One of those dreams that stands out in glorious technicolour from the monochrome of night…one of those dreams that makes you wonder, when you wake, whether you really have been in bed all night…

And sometimes those dreams aren't all kittens and cotton-candy. Sometimes, the dreams aren't even mine.

Raziel wakes up, and it has all been a dream.

Or rather, _I_ wake up, and it still _is_ a dream.

I screech in a most un-Raziel-like manner and skitter away backwards to the wall. My dead wings hit stone hard, but reality hits harder. 

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Oh god…

I don't dare to look down in case there are hooves. 

"Raziel!" I bellow, and my voice (_his voice!_) echoes loudly in the caverns of Nosgoth. "Raziel, you great blue git, are you here? Raziel!"

It is only as the echoes die slowly away that I belatedly realise today I _am_ the great blue git, and that I have no idea whose dream I'm in.

First good point: I finally have the waistline any girl would want. I swivel my non-hips joyfully. _Look at me, I'm a size…uh…minus-10…_

First bad point: I am dead. Putting one of Raziel's massive claws to my throat and chest confirms this. These lungs have not drawn breath in decades, and this heart has atrophied. 

I pick up a nearby spear from the ground. My own puny arms would have struggled to lift it, let alone swing it. Raziel's dead body has no problem with it. I might as well be holding a cocktail stick.

Second good point: I giggle a little. I have super-powers. Maybe I should get myself some spandex. 

Then again…I look down at my new, dream-borrowed body. 

Second bad point: Raziel seems to wear very few clothes. I never realised it just looking at him, but he runs around practically in the nude. What is _this_? Some sort of loin-cloth? And this _scarf._ Ugh. And why are my forearms apparently swathed in ancient bandages? Fear grips me suddenly. If these unravel, will my arms fall off?

Raziel's hearing is very sharp. My pointed ears twitch. Something is coming down the corridor towards me, and it does not sound friendly.

Bad point to end all bad points: I am trapped in Nosgoth in the body of its messiah, whom everybody is trying to kill. And I have no idea how to fight. 

So I do the only sensible thing. I run for it. And I run like a girl. Any vampire watching me sprint through Nosgoth would undoubtedly have been amused by the sight of Raziel, Fearless Vampire Killer ™, scuttling down the tunnels and trying to hide behind large vases. 

I duck as two Dumahim snarl past. Fortunately, they seem preoccupied with killing a nearby human being and are not interested in anything that might happen to be skulking behind decorative ceramics.

They set about killing the man quite brutally. It's then that I remember that Raziel, skilled fighter that he is, also has the great innate advantage of tremendous strength.

Even if I can't control the skills this body has learnt, I can at least use its resources. 

I leap out, spear in claw. "Hey!" I yell - and I _still_ cannot get over this deep tenor voice, nor the fact that I am speaking without the benefit of a jaw - "You! Over here!"

The vampires rush me, far quicker than I was expecting. I do nothing, intending to simply stand my ground and wait to stab them - but Raziel's body takes over angrily and the world dissolves in fire…

I am pleased to discover (when my eyes return to normal) that I am fine. The two vampires are writhing in flames, and my claws feel curiously warm to the touch. I force Raziel's body through a little dance of triumph - I must be Raziel at the height of his _Soul Reaver 1 _powers - fully glyphed-up and ready to rumble. Feeling a little silly, I strike the pose, snap my faded wings out to full extension, leap in the air and punch the stone beneath my feet as hard as I can. 

I think I've failed to cast the Stone Glyph until I happen to wander around the corner and find a petrified Dumahim statue, ready and waiting to be shattered. 

Bad point number 4,506: I am hungry. And everybody knows what that means. 

Thinking about it as I trail back to the Drowned Abbey (for want of anything better to do) perhaps eating souls isn't _too_ disgusting. There are worse things. Ravioli, for starters. That weird thing my auntie makes with cheese and pastry. But the feel of it, the sense of ingesting a life, still felt badly wrong. I guess I'm just not cut out to be a vampire. Or a soul-eater. Or whatever.

Hell, maybe I should become a vegetarian.

The Abbey opens up before me, full of greenish water. Rahabim bob on the surface, lazily, ducking under swiftly when my distinctive shadow falls across them. _Oh well. Here goes nothing -_

And I leap out across the water, heading for a stone plinth far below. 

Finding out that his wings are _not _one of the parts of Raziel's body that operate purely on his own instinct was unpleasant. The water is very cold around me, and I duck myself on purpose, trying to wake me (_or him. Whose dream is this anyway?)_ up. It has no noticeable effect, apart from making this blasted cowl more sodden. 

I haul myself out on the rock, dripping like a drowned rat, and sit quietly in the hope that Raziel's supernatural gifts extend to water-resistance. 

After a while, I start to hum, softly, to myself. 

Several choruses of _I'm Henry The Eighth I Am_ later, and I am just about to start on my best rendition of _Saturday Night At The Movies_ (this place has brilliant acoustics -it's just like singing in the shower, and Raziel's voice is surprisingly mellow) when I spot him. 

He's curled up asleep on the roof of Rahab's chambers, obviously having dozed off in the reasonably warm sunlight. His body looks oddly transparent -

"Well, I suppose it would," I comment to myself out loud, "because _I'm_ using it too."

I fling myself wildly across the gaps until I make the roof, my claw-like hooves scraping chips from the stone, and lean over Raziel's sleeping body. 

Subtlety has never really got me anywhere in life…_not that this wasn't kinda fun, Raz…_

I lean in and bellow, in Raziel's loudest, angriest tones: "WAKE…UP…DAMN…YOU...!"

Raziel wakes up, and it has all been a dream. 

He sits up from where he has been curled in the corner of VladimirsAngel's bedroom, his hooves tangled in her spare duvet. 

"Gosh," he says, to the Angel herself, who is also awake and grasping the edge of her duvet for dear life, "I've just had the most peculiar dream."

"No kidding," says the Angel, regarding him with a great deal of suspicion.

Raziel puts on his most pleading look. 

"Is it okay if I come and sit with you for a while? I must admit that dream was rather unsettling…almost frightening. I've never felt so miserable in all my life."

He shuffles onto the edge of the bed and looks at her with huge, pale eyes. 

"I dreamt I was a _girl_," he admits, and this is when VladimirsAngel hits him over the head with a pillow.

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P.S. This is what lack of sleep will do for you. *points at the story* This is your brain on nervous adrenaline!!! And never let Soul Reavers sleep over. Bad things will happen to your creative writing muscles.^_^


	2. Who Let The Vamps Out?

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BODY-SWAP

Chapter 2 - Who Let The Vamps Out?

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Okay. The first chapter was supposed to be a one-off. But Raziel likes to have fun, and so I thought I'd indulge him. *hugs to Chalcedony Blue for all the plushies!!*

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Disclaimer: Raziel and Nosgoth were created by Silicon Knights, Crystal Dynamics and Eidos Interactive.

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The Story So Far: VladimirsAngel finds that when either she or Raziel goes to sleep, they unexpectedly swap bodies. Let the fun continue…

After a few nights, I start to wonder whether I am going insane. Okay, _more_ insane. 

Raziel finds it all of vast amusement value, of course. I'm convinced he's sleeping more, on purpose, just to see if it will happen. I've taken to slipping caffeine pills in his tea, but this just makes him dizzy and hyper. 

I start sleeping right next to him, with my clothes on, to try and see if I can catch the moment when the transference takes place. I try locking him in the bathroom (much to his chagrin) - but nothing works. I still end up in Nosgoth, fully hoofed and winged, and spend my nights running for my life away from snarling vamps. And this means that Raziel gets a good night's sleep on my mattress while I wake up every morning with aching muscles and the uncomfortable feeling that I ought to have a wraith-blade curling around my arm. It's sort of like pins-and-needles, only more unpleasant. 

Raziel watches me carefully as I stumble down to breakfast, prior to getting ready to go to work. "Rough night?" he says, innocently. I glare at him. 

"I spent my night up to my ankles in blood in Janos's castle, thank you oh so very much for asking."

Raziel tuts to himself. "Only your ankles this time? You're improving."

I can't take any more of it. I get up, shrug on my jacket, and head off for the bus. 

I work in an office a little way across town. Much of my day consists of taking telephone calls from idiots and doing the filing. However, considering the ridiculous exploits with lit torches and fountains of blood I've had to endure during my nights, I think work should be a nice change.

I am of course wrong. First law of reality - sh*t happens.

I must admit my worst fear had been that I would doze off at my desk and awake to the sound of my fellow workers screaming and running for the fire exits as VladimirsAngel, mild-mannered office dogsbody, abruptly metamorphoses into an undead blue-skinned horror. I could see the headlines now: "Demon Terrorises Local Firm".

But this, mercifully, did not happen. 

Unfortunately, although large mugs of coffee and a bar of chocolate had ensured my wakefulness, it was no proof against Raziel deciding he wanted to see what I did all day that was so interesting. 

I get a phone call from reception. "Hello?"

"We've got your boyfriend down here, Angel," says the secretary, and sniffs, disapprovingly. "Do you want us to buzz him through?"

"You have?" I thought my boyfriend was at work. Some emergency must have occurred. "Uh…yeah. Yeah, please."

I wait anxiously at the door to see what's wrong, and have to stifle a screech of pure terror as Vampire Raziel swaggers up the stairs, grinning at all and sundry, his hooves leaving deep cuts in the carpet-tile. 

I suppose it's my fault, really. I had previously spent some time explaining to Raziel that if he was ever to be seen in public in my world he would have to assume his old shape, that of the vampire he had been before Kain cast him down. This is a helpful little talent that he seems to have developed of late - and I must admit, Vampire Raziel is much easier on the eye and less likely to inspire nausea at tea-time - but it is merely an illusion and cannot be sustained for too long. The Sarafan form would have been preferable, as it at least could wear boots, but Raziel finds it hard enough to sustain the vampire shape, let alone the Sarafan one, which his body has practically forgotten. 

However, by bringing up the subject of his appearance in public in such detail, I have practically condoned his actions. _After all_, his expression seems to say as he strides towards me, _I'm doing exactly what you told me to do…_

I resist the urge to stamp my foot in irritation, settling instead for grabbing his collar - dear _god_, he's wearing those leather trousers and one of my genuine boyfriend's work shirts - and dragging him into a corner. 

My face inches from those yellowish cat-pupilled eyes, I snarl:

"What the hell do you think you are doing?!"

"Is this where you work?"

He's not even _listening _to me. He's too busy looking around at all the office girls and grinning that evil snaggle-toothed grin. "Which one is your boss? The one you call the little hitler -"

I clamp a hand over his mouth. Being this close to him, the illusion is tenuous at best, and my hand can feel the gap where his jaw should be, although his face appears whole to the naked eye. 

"Shut up! And get out! Quickly, before someone sees you and marks me down as the office strumpet -"

He stands his ground. "I'll take a sleeping pill," he threatens. "If you make me go home, I'll drug myself silly and you'll be back in Nosgoth fixing block puzzles before you can blink."

I stare at him. "You wouldn't dare."

He digs in his pocket and holds up a packet of tranquilizers that would probably have felled a small horse. "Ta-daa," he smirks. 

I try another tactic which has been known to work in the past. "Bad Raziel," I scold, mildly, pointing vaguely out of the door, "go to my room."

He is already shaking his head and still looking smug. "You cannot tempt me, woman."

It is of course at this moment, when I am about ready to completely lose it with him, that my boss appears behind me like the wrath of God and clamps one hand firmly onto Raziel's shoulder.


	3. My name is LupaI live on the Second Floo...

**BODY-SWAP**

**Chapter 3**

**My Name is Lupa…I Live on the Second Floor**

_Disclaimer: Raziel belongs to Eidos Interactive and Crystal Dynamics._

_This is ludicrously short, and not of my best I think…so I apologise in advance. I have horrible writer's block *wails* and can't seem to get any good ideas lately. _

_Raziel: *shakes his head* All work and no play makes VladimirsAngel a dull girl…_

Thank God_, I think as Raziel proceeds to give my boss a look that says "_I wonder what you'd look like dead" _Thank God…that my boss is not the most observant woman on this earth and therefore has not noticed the beautiful pearly claw-hooves that are poking out from under the cuffs of Vampire Raziel's trousers. Human beings are not known for looking either very up or very down. It sometimes makes me wonder why I spend so much money on shoes. Nobody ever really looks at them. _

"Are you the temp?" demands my boss, and suddenly there is a big, black cloud on the silver lining. I choke, silently. My mind wants to scream "Noooooooo!" but my voice-box is not co-operating. "You're late. And we have a strict dress-code in this department, young man…"

The "young man" flickers an eyebrow at me in immense amusement, then turns to my boss and says: "I'm sorry. I got lost on my way here. VladimirsAngel -" and he turns to me with a sickly grateful grin - "was just giving me directions."

_The only direction you're going to get from me, Raz, is how to take a long walk off a short cliff - "Sorry, Boss?"_

"I said, seeing as you seem to have spare time on your hands, Angel," says my boss, disparagingly, "you can show Mr…uh.."

"Anderson," says Raziel, who has been impossible to live with since _The Matrix. _

"…the ropes," my boss concludes, before waltzing off to deal with the rest of us humble minions and leaving me with the cuckoo in the nest, the fox in the chicken coop, the vampire in the nunnery…ahem. 

Raziel folds his arms, hiding his claws, and tries to give me an innocent look. "Don't even try," I snap, grabbing him by the shoulder and shoving him towards the empty desk next to mine. He sits down, and almost immediately, the phone rings. 

"Hello," says Raziel, snatching up the receiver, "how can I help you?"

He listens for a moment, then expertly puts the call on hold and flutters his eyelashes at me, sweetly. "It's for you," he smiles.

The following is a transcript of my call, complete with mental additions in italics: 

Yes madam. I'm sure we can help you with that…_bastard bastard bastard big blue decomposing bastard_…yes madam _bastard bastard bastard _if I could just take your name and address…_why me?why me? why? Do I look like I deserve to be dogged by vampires?…uh-huh…yes…yes…__oh no. What's he doing..,what is he doing…Certainly, madam. Thank you for your call. _Aargh! That's my holepunch! Raziel -_ Sorry, madam, could you repeat that? __He's going to die. Again. When I get my hands on…noooo! Not the post-it notes! Not at all, madam. Thank you. Goodbye._

I give Raziel my best glare. Flowers have withered, faces have melted and small children have run screaming before that glare. Raziel just blinkblinks his yellow cat-eyes at me and does his best to look efficient with the fax machine. The shredded remains of my Post-It notes flutter gently down around our desks like so much pretty wedding confetti. 

For some reason, a few minutes later as I try to make him understand that you cannot use the word "scum" in a polite telephone conversation, I find my thoughts drawn to pointed wooden stakes and the topical use of hand grenades. And, to add insult to injury, my boss likes him. She thinks he's the cat's whiskers. And he's only been here five minutes. Me, she hates. I'm not sure how much more of this I can take.

I dig around in my desk drawer and find a packet of really strong painkiller™ that I keep there in case of emergencies. The back of the packet reads, "One or two tablets to be taken with food. May cause drowsiness".

Perfect.

It's nearly lunchtime. I think I have a little trip to make.    


	4. Daddy's Little Girl

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BODY-SWAP

Chapter 4

Daddy's Little Girl

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Firstly, thank you all so much for reviewing! I will beat the writer's block! I will! *takes the Reaver from Raz and starts chopping at the offending block...Raziel takes time to hand out signed photos of his vampire self to all who reviewed ("What do you mean, you want one of Faustus? And what's so great about Janos anyway?")...V.A. sniggers*

Now! On with the story...

"Excuse me," I gasp, hurrying down to the office sick-room, tablets in hand, "Not feeling too well..."

My boss nearly waylays me in the corridor. "Angel, about the new temp -"

"Sorry," I mutter, clamping a hand to my mouth, "think I'm gonna throw up..."

And I dart into the sick-room and slam the door.

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Raziel! Now I almost feel sick for real.

I'd offered him the opportunity to spend a few nights in my world as an act of kindness, really. Nosgoth is okay for a visit, but you wouldn't want to live there. It's all greys and browns and smells like the back alley of a nightclub. And whoever designed the architecture had seen way too many Batman movies if you ask me. No wonder Raziel turned out so depressed and vengeful.

So I thought, why not? Maybe he deserves a few days in the sun, in a world where there is coloured wallpaper and cinemas and he can sleep in peace.

I press two tablets out of the foil, regard them for a moment, then swallow them with a cup of water from the cooler. Sleep in peace, huh. It'll be _rest_ in peace for you, soul-snacker, when I'm through, and then I'll get a good sleep with no more fountains of blood or snarling Dumahim to disturb me.

I lie down on the ugly school-dormitory-like bed, close my eyes, and try to relax. _Think happy thoughts, V.A., think happy thoughts like holding Raz down and banging his head on the table repeatedly...think happy thoughts and soon you'll be off to sleep..._

I stand up, feeling the ragged wings swish against my spine, and wish I had a mouth to properly grin with. Look! There's the Abyss where Kain hurled Raziel to his doom (privately, a little voice in my mind adds _and now you can understand why, can't you? Kain probably couldn't stand the little bugger either_) just in front of me. And across there - Dumah's territory, where maybe Raziel's brother still lies dormant on his throne, depending what time-frame I'm currently in. 

Raziel's body abruptly reacts to the presence of vampires, shifting stance into a half-crouch and hissing angrily. I force it to run away. I'm not in the mood for fighting uglies right now. I have a mission in mind, and it doesn't require dead vamps slowing me down. 

Besides, when Raziel realises what I've done, he'll try and stop me. Pausing on the edge of Raziel's own clan territory, I allow myself a deep-throated snigger. He's probably back there right now, trying to get used to the fact that he's suddenly wearing a bra and has more long tawny hair than any vampire could ever cope with. I push away any worries that Raziel, in my body, will lose me my job. My boss already considers me the lowest form of life on earth. Any new eccentricities such as screaming "Aargh! I'm a girl!" or trying to look at my own butt in the mirror would probably be put down to my being so dumb that I'd failed to notice my own gender that morning.

I hoof it (ha ha) across Nosgoth towards where the Pillars should stand, to where Kain's throne room should be. I try out a few skills on the way and discover that this time I am poor ickle Raziel, Raziel before he touched the wraithblade and made it his own. Shucks. And I was just getting used to those funky glyphs. Especially that one where if you move your claws just so you get twin handfuls of fire to throw. 

I use my only glyph ability and phase through some sets of iron gates until I stand before the immense double-doors of Kain's sanctum. I can't help being a little frightened - after all, behind these doors awaits an even bigger psycho than the one I'm currently sharing my apartment with - but my need for revenge drives me on. And no, the irony of this is not lost on me.

Kain stands up as I enter the room, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of delight and hatred. "Raziel, " he begins, in suitably theatrical tones, but then something in my stance, my expression, gets through to him and he stops in mid-sentence. His brow furrows in a frown as I shuffle forward towards him: he's obviously confused at the lack of arrogance that usually leaks from Raz's every pore. "Raziel, is that really -"

Now it's my turn. Now for my Oscar-winning performance. I twist Raziel's dead blue face into a mask of misery, tears pricking at the blank incandescent eyes. If I'd had a lower lip, it'd be quivering right now, baby. 

Then Raziel, Reaver of Souls, Revenger of Past Wrongs, flings himself at Kain at a dead run. Kain, taken rather off-balance by this unprecedented behaviour, has no time to dodge as I grasp him around the torso in a crushing hug. "Daddy!" I wail in Raziel's dark tenor, practically sobbing into his shoulder.

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Oh yeah, I think maliciously as Kain, obviously in some sort of minor shock, starts patting my cowled shoulders and making uncertain "There, there" noises, _you'll be sorry you ever messed with the Angel, Razzy-boy..._


	5. It's Pretty, But It's Not Your Colour

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BODY-SWAP

Chapter 5

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Disclaimer: Raziel, Kain & Nosgoth belong to Eidos Interactive, Crystal Dynamics, Silicon Knights. I, VladimirsAngel, am unfortunately responsible for my own actions in this story.

At the suggestion of the Guardian-of-Tears…we start this time with poor Raz's account of his new situation! Everybody together now: "Awwwww…."

Thankyou all so much for reviewing. For something that started out as a one-off, it's not going too badly! ^_^

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The Story so Far: For some reason, VladimirsAngel and Raziel have discovered that when one or both of them sleeps, they literally swap bodies. Raziel decides to try out life at the Angel's office for a day, whereas the Angel, intent on revenge, has returned to Nosgoth…

Part One: Raziel

Sudden heartbeat, and I instantly know what she's done.

I lurch forward off the sick-bed, scattering the blankets. Blood pounds sickeningly in my skull. Gods, why would I ever have missed being alive? Bodies are vile things, really, full of flesh and liquid and bits that go wrong at the slightest provocation…

And this is VladimirsAngel's body. I'll have to speak to her sharply about eating less pizza and having her eyes tested again. 

I'm not being cruel here, you understand. She's not overweight, but when you're used to weighing about 80 pounds soaking wet and being able to see your own ribs without breathing in, _everything _feels overweight.

I hurry back to the unfamiliar office and am startled by the vehemence with which the Angel's body tenses up at the sight of Boss. "Angel," Boss addresses me silkily, "the new temp seems to have wandered off somewhere. Find him, will you? Seeing as you seem to have taken such a shine to him."

I remember just in time that I don't have my claws any more, and resist the natural impulse to bury them in her spine. "Actually," I warble in the Angel's soprano, sarcastic tones, "that's just what I had in mind. I'm sure I'll find her - him! - very soon."

I try to stalk away impressively, and forget about the kitten-heels. It's hard to look like you mean business when you're flailing wildly at the photocopying machine for balance and getting your heel-strap caught in the flare of your slacks. 

That does it. I have to get out of this body. Bodies are very strong things, you see, despite my bemoaning the frailty of the mortal condition. Bodies shape your consciousness. If I stay stuck in here too long, the Angel's body is going to turn me into a girl. Even worse, it might turn me into VladimirsAngel. 

I repress a shudder, and hurry out of the building to try and get to the nearest warp-gate, which unhappily is back at the Angel's flat across town. 

Of course it's only when I'm already sitting on the bus that I realise this body has somehow managed to snag itself a copy of _Vogue_ on its way through the office. Oh, well. I don't suppose it'll do any harm to just read the editorial…

**__**

Part Two: VladimirsAngel

"Is it something the guards said to you?" Kain is asking me, a note of desperation creeping into his voice. Bless him. I must admit he's really doing his best. Over the last twenty minutes, he's offered me cups of tea, blankets, Kleenex - all sorts of things, if only I'd please stop crying. Hell, he even offered to let me play with the Soul Reaver a minute ago. I declined, although for some reason Raziel's body nearly went wild at the idea.

I guess little vampires don't cry a lot. Kain doesn't seem to have had much experience with comforting people, but, like I said, he's doing his best. 

"Son," says Kain, uncomfortably, "please. This is not dignified."

He sits down on the floor next to the throne (oh yeah. I get to sit in the throne. You'd be surprised what a good bit of guilt-tripping will do for you) and looks across at me mournfully. 

"Why won't you tell me what's wrong?" he asks, for the tenth time. 

Why? Uh...because I haven't worked that out yet…come on, Angel, improvise…

"I really don't feel I can continue with my plan of using you to fulfil my destiny with you in this state," adds Kain, kindly, as if trying to be helpful.

I hold up one set of vicious Raziel-claws for Kain's inspection, my shoulders juddering with forced sobbing.

"Look what you did to me," Raziel's normally masterful tenor croaks in dismay. "You hurled me off the cliffs - you ruined my wings - I was dying in agony and torment for an eternity…and look! I _broke_ a _nail_."

Something about Kain's ghastly expression tells me that maybe I should have given this bit a little more thought.

"Raziel, my boy," he says, eventually, clapping Raziel's body on the shoulder in a jovial we're-all-men-here sort of way, "are you sure there's nothing _else_ you feel like talking about? While we're having this little father-son chat…thing…"

It is of course at this moment that my own body comes slamming through the doors in what I recognise as a Raziel-rage…only there is something different about it…

Raziel's body explodes up from the throne at my command, and I stalk up to my own body furiously, too angry to stay in character.

"How dare you," I bellow, "how _dare_ you put that dreadful slutty nail-polish on?"

There is a moment of silence.

"If you want to tell me _anything at all_," says Kain, somewhat pitifully, "You know you can talk to me, don't you, son?"


	6. Is That Your Girlfriend?

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BODY-SWAP

Chapter 6

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Disclaimer: Raziel, Kain & Nosgoth belong to Eidos, Crystal Dynamics, Silicon Knights. Etc. *sighs*

I'm sorry I can't do my usual responses to you the good reviewers *hands out Raz-shaped chocolate….ewww**…*** but my computer is playing up. So it's right on with the story –

That nail varnish is completely unforgiveable! What was the man thinking of? Judging by the look on my face I reckon he's definitely done this on purpose. I suppose I should be grateful that he settled for hideous make-up and balked at the hooker skirt and leather corset. 

"Is this your girlfriend?" asks Kain, weakly. "Does this mean you're a lesbian now? I'm sorry, I don't really understand how this works…"

Striding forward, I stop dead, cowl-to-nose with my own body, and bring the backs of Raziel's claws about in a ringing smack across the face. 

"You'll only bruise yourself, you know," Raziel says, sarcastically, reaching up with my pale human hand to touch the cheek where I have just, effectively, hit myself. "That body you're in is practically indestructable. I should know."

And with that, he slaps me across the cowl with the flat of my hand.

__

Smack.

"So really," he adds, making my lips curl in a smug little grin, "I can knock you around all I like, and it'll make me feel better, but when I get my body back, I won't be black and blue."

I try to be all righteous. "You can't hit me," I swagger, "I'm a girl. You don't hit girls."

"It's okay if you want to be a girl," comes Kain's voice from behind me. He has given up and is sitting on his throne, massaging his temples with his claws. "There is nothing wrong with girls. I will support you, if this is really what you want to do with your life, Raziel. I will still respect you."

We both turn on him and shout, "Shut up!" before turning back to each other in a fury. 

"You can't do this," I snarl, "you've already made me look like a cheap tart by coming into the office and sleazing vampishly everywhere. And now you've compounded the felony by doing me up in that slutty manner!"

My body puts its hands on its hips, crossly. "Oh," says Raziel, "and of course you've behaved like a perfect _angel_, Angel…look at my father! He thinks I'm a lesbian! And by the way, this is _Vogue_'s "Nail Colour of the Month"."

Kain, still in his seat, is staring at us as if he's waiting for Jerry Springer's bodyguards to intervene.

I slump my wings against a pillar, sulkily. "You started it," I say, taking refuge in the schoolyard response of those who are being beaten at their own game. Raziel, obviously, is also willing to be immature (no mean feat in someone of his vast age):

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Did not." _Slap._

"Did too." _Smack._

"Did not." _Slap._ "Wake up!"

"No, _you_ wake up!"

Huge claws like a dragon's dig into both of our shoulders, and Kain abruptly looms over us, lowering dangerously. "Children," he purrs, "I don't know what's going on here, but I'm starting to suspect that neither of you are who you appear to be…"

The claw-tips bite into the skin on my human shoulder, and Raziel cries out in pain. "So maybe I'll just eat this human girl," Kain says, looking directly at me now, "and then we'll talk about your destiny, my boy."

For one moment, as my brain shrieks _oh god oh god this was meant to be a practical joke I can't end up dead this way_, I am frozen to the spot. Raziel, more experienced in these situations, brings back my elbow in a vicious swipe to Kain's midriff and turns to stamp on his foot with my best heels. "Bastard!" he shrieks in a bizarre coloratura, (and I swear my voice has never sounded that angry before) "how dare you pick on my girl-friend!!"

"Yeah!" I shout, bouncing on my hooves, "you go, girl! - uh, I mean - oh, just kick his ass, Raz!"

"With _your_ body?!!" Raziel squeaks, "how long d'you think I'd last? Are you crazy? Start running or start waking up -"

Kain, springing to his feet with a roar, raises the Reaver and prepares to shoot at us. 

" - preferably both," Raziel adds, tearing off the high heels and sprinting for the door bare-foot with me in hot pursuit, my hooves thumping on the tiles. 


	7. Things Are A Lot Clearer If You Put The ...

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BODY-SWAP

Chapter 7

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Disclaimer: Raziel, Nosgoth and Mr J Audron belong to Eidos Interative, Crystal Dynamics, Silicon Knights. Ho hum.

Another chapter! *Raziel sulks* Thankyou, thankyou for kind reviews! **hands out tickets to "Soul Reaver On Ice" to everyone**: Raziel sees tickets and bellows "ICE SKATING? Woman, are you mad?!!"*

Special hugs to Syvia and Guardian for braving the wilds of FictionPress.net to read my new work-in-progress *crushes you in hug* if anyone else would like to read *cough, cough, shameless plugging of own work ,ahem* then please do. If you don't, then me and Raz still love ya anyways…^_^

"What's happening?" I demand, as we both leg it from Kain's stronghold at our fastest pace (which, unfortunately, is the running pace of my human body - about as fast as a sickly caterpillar) "Why can't we wake up? Why can't we get back to our own bodies?"

My body gives me a very Raziel-stare. "Why are you asking me?" he demands. "Am I the fount of all knowledge on the subject? I don't even know how to do up these ridiculous shoes of yours."

"Maybe it's because we're here together," I ponder, scooting round the corner towards the warp-gate door. "We've never been here together before. It's always been a straight swap, you in my world, me in yours."

Raziel sniffs disparagingly. "Is this like what happens in _Star Trek_?" he asks. "You encounter some weird inexplicable event and suddenly you get an virulent attack of technobabble." Raziel does not like _Star Trek_. He thinks it's tacky. _Buffy the Vampire Slayer _just tends to make him laugh. His favourite TV show is _Will and Grace_. Go on. You pick which one I think he is!

"My ability to use technobabble is limited to "See, what happened is that the thingy got a nasty jolt in the whatsit and so the temporal wingwang has dysfunction in its loo-la"," I say, " but basically, yes, you're right."

I activate the warp-gate - it's odd, the longer I'm in Raziel's body, the easier it's getting to control and utilise his powers - and step through it. 

The first thing that's immediately obvious is that we're not back in my flat where we should be. I keep the warp-gate in the closet, you see, so it doesn't worry the landlord. We are not in my closet. We are in something so completely unlike a closet it's untrue.

The vaulted roof of the chamber, lined with waterspouts, arches above us like some grand cathedral. Burning braziers line the room at strategic intervals, and there are little metal racks of unlit torch brands shackled to the walls. And something smells nice. Smells like…food…

"Ugh," says Raziel, almost instantly, wrinkling my human nose in distaste, "what's that awful stench?"

I take a step forward and my hoof splashes into a shallow channel of viscous red liquid. I suddenly realise where the food-smell is coming from and am disgusted at Raziel's body's reaction to it. "Oh, no," is all I can think of to say, "no, not again…"

"Oh, I know where we are," says Raziel, almost cheerfully, "we're in J-"

His words are cut off as the blood boils up under our feet and starts threatening to drown us both. Of course, to me, this won't cause a vast problem - I am already _in_ a dead body. 

But the sight of my human face twisting in terror as the blood rises is enough to make even a dead heart leap into my throat. "Hold on, Raz!" I shout. "I'll save you…"

"My hero," says Raziel, sarcastically, as I finally manage the last leap and land, shuddering, on the platform. "Put me down. You reek of blood and it's making your body gag."

"There's gratitude," I gasp. Janos's little booby-trap has nearly finished me. Don't even ask how I managed to get both me and Raziel up here. The wings that hang at my back are almost worse than useless, and even with super undead-guy strength it was pretty tough hurling a screaming human body between pillars. I don't understand it. A few moments ago we were in Kain's Nosgoth, and now we're here in Ancient Nosgoth in Janos Audron's fortress. What's going on? This whole situation is starting to stink of Moebius…

My body stands there grumbling and rubbing its backside, and I am about to make a barbed comment when Raziel's body suddenly bolts upright as if bitten. 

Something is coming. Something really powerful. 

I snap to attention and the Reaver explodes into life around my arm. "What is it?" Raziel quavers from behind me. "You're scaring me…oh, gods, I can't believe Ijust said that - you HAVE to get me out of this body…"

"Ssh," I say sharply. "Someone's coming."

The chamber seems suddenly full of dancing, threatening shadows. Footsteps on the stone, regular, slow, not hurrying to come forward.

__

Click.

The room is suddenly illuminated in balmy pale gold: Janos Audron stands with one hand on the light-switch next to the door, looking quizzical.

"Hello, Raziel," he says to me, in normal, calm tones. "I could be wrong, of course, but I didn't think you were supposed to be here yet. If I'd known, I'd have baked cookies."

"Janos," says Raziel, in my own oh-so-feminine soprano, hurrying forward, "thank gods. You have to help me…"

He stops his move towards Janos abruptly, and directs an amused look at me. "You fancy him?" he says. "You never said."

"I do not!" I bluster in Raziel's deep tenor, glad that blushing is practically impossible in this body. "Liar. Sorry, Janos, don't listen to him. It's that time of the month for him. You know. Women's trouble."

Janos Audron, to his credit, merely says, "I think you'd both better come and have tea and a chat," and sweeps gracefully through a nearby door, motioning us to follow. 

An elbow jabs me in my toastrack rib-cage, and my body glares at me. "_Women's trouble_," Raziel snaps, "you're going to suffer when I get my body back."


	8. Just Cherry

**BODY-SWAP**

**Chapter 8**

**Just Cherry**

_Raziel, Nosgoth, Janos and the like belonging to Eidos and their minions._

_*snatches up her plushies and waves to Chalcedony Blue* Hiya! Welcome back! and big hellos and thankies to all you lovely reviewers out there. I promise, I'm taking my medication and this story will be finished soon. Honest. ^_^ Just give me a few more hours to get my body back..._

Janos Audron regards us both with heavy, age-dark eyes, and says: " An interesting little problem. Cake?"

We glance at each other and then shake our heads, dumbly. The cake, like a lot of the decor in Janos's impressive castle, is red. Blood red. I'm really kind of hoping that the little dark red globules baked into it are candied cherries. In fact, I'm starting to wonder if this winged vampire might not have a bit of an obsession going on here with the good old type AB positive - more than your average vamp, shall we say? I'm having a really hard time forgetting my little nightly adventures trying to navigate what Raziel scathingly refers to as "Janos's Scab Bridges". The endless running up and down...the stench of the blood lying fallow in its golden cups...I shudder involuntarily.

"Tea too cold, Raziel...I mean, Miss Angel?"

Janos looks at me and smiles, encouragingly, gesturing with the teapot. I shake my head. This is all far too civilised for me. I already share my flat with a vampire, I didn't envisage having afternoon tea and cakes with one. Raziel, in my body, seems slightly in awe of Janos, and sits sipping his tea in silence. I glower at him, but he says nothing. I recognise the look on my human face. He's sulking.

"Can you help us, Janos?" I ask, eventually, trying to break the uncomfortable silence that is beginning to build between the three of us. "It's not that I don't want to be a vampire, don't get me wrong, I love vampires -"

Raziel abruptly snorts loudly and puts down his tea. He mutters something, rebelliously, too quietly even for his own sharp vampire ears to pick up on for me.

"I'm sure she doesn't think that," says Janos, smoothly, cutting himself a thin sliver of cake (one of the "cherries" starts to leak a thick, ugly maroon colour into the sponge. Oh. My. God. Blecccccchhh.) "I'm sure she thinks very highly of you, Raziel. But the wings are beautiful, aren't they?" he adds, turning to me. "I've always been proud of them. "

Mutter, mutter. 

"Really, Raziel," says Janos, reproachfully, wiping cake crumbs from his lips with a slight pout, "such slurs on a fine lady's character. You should be ashamed, using her mouth to say such things."

"Yeah," I say, perhaps more smugly than I should have (I can't help it. Raziel's voice is just so darn good at smug) "stop saying...whatever it is you just said. Yeah."

Raziel flickers one of my eyebrows in a that-was-lame expression, and says: "Janos, please. You have to get me out of her body. It's terrible to be alive. I'd forgotten. Live bodies make strange noises and you can feel the blood pounding in your head when you run -"

"Please," says Janos with an odd cat-like grin - the tips of his fangs poke over his lower lip as his mouth widens in a smile, "don't talk about blood. It's bad enough you just sitting there smelling virginal and human - are you all right, Miss Angel?"

"Fine," I say, trying not to choke on the musty cowl that covers my half-face. "Absolutely fine. Virginal. That's me."

Raziel shakes my head sharply. "Do you think it is the time-streamer, Moebius?" he asks. "We do seem to have been travelling through time a lot more than I would like. Is it possible he's controlling us in some way?"

Janos growls softly under his breath. "Controlling the innocent is a terrible evil," he says. "I will help you if I can, but there is little I can do. You have a destiny, Raziel, a dark and terrible path which you must walk -"

"Trust me," says Raziel, cutting Janos off before he can get properly started on the whole destiny rant, "I know about my destiny, and having breasts is _not_ part of it."

There is a sudden explosion somewhere out in the corridors of Janos' fortress, and the cute little table-lamps under their natural linen shades are swiftly extinguished. "Drat," says Janos, rising imperiously to his feet and flaring his black wings in annoyance, "the fuses must've gone again..."

But Raziel's body knows better: it is already tensing, and in the dimness the wraith-blade shines like a brand. Danger is closing fast. "Janos," I say, quietly, "just how secure is this fortress of yours? Not to be rude or anything, but if the Sarafan could get in here -"

The Reaver abruptly lunges forward, almost ripping Raziel's arm from its socket. I gasp in pain. "Uh-huh," says my voice from the left, sarcastically, "you have to watch that thing. It's a little bugger."

"It's _you_, you ungrateful jawless wonder," I snap, trying to wrestle the arm back under control. Janos's eyes shine in the dark as he makes his way unerringly to the door - but he is too late.

The door crashes inwards in a blaze of light and fire, and a powerful, pale-haired shape bounds towards me, shoving Janos aside (the old vampire snarls like a tiger in a cage).

Oh, and here was me thinking this couldn't get any worse.

Young vampire Kain strides up to me and grabs me by the cowl. "Give-me-my-bloody-sword-back," he spits out, all in one breath, practically shoving his face into Raziel's.

So I do the only thing I can think of. I nut him, forehead to forehead, and am still marvelling at the odd, bony_ thunking sound that this makes when my own voice says, "Hey, blondie." _

Raziel taps Young Kain on the shoulder with my newly-polished nails. Slightly dazed from my assault on his delicately cheekboned face, Kain turns to look at the human girl who has dared approach him. He sniffs, as if scenting the blood in my veins, as if preparing to summon that blood from my body, then -  "Give us a Glasgow kiss, baby," says my voice, with all Raziel's venom behind it, and to my horror he follows suit and head-butts the tall vampire with all my meagre strength.


	9. Fun Camera Kain

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BODY-SWAP

Chapter 9

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Raziel, Nosgoth, Janos, Kain and the like belonging to Eidos and their assorted minions.

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Here it is! Another update, after so long. I've finally worked out the details of the plot *thinks: what plot?!?*. Thank you so much for reviewing. Hope you enjoy. ^_^

To my vast surprise, Young Kain says "Ow!" and sits down heavily, the fight seemingly knocked out of him. Raziel, in my body, staggers backwards moaning under my breath and clutching at my forehead with both hands. 

"Fools!" I snap, swiftly putting myself between them in case of further incident, "this is not the time! The Sarafan will be at our doors at any moment…oh, god, I'm proclaiming instead of speaking…Raz, we have to get ourselves switched back or I'm going to sound like a Hammer Horror flick for the rest of my life…"

"She's right," puts in Janos, who is peering out of the battered doorway with some alarm, "I can see some ridiculously tacky suits of armour heading our way. We'd better hurry."

"What about him?" Raziel demands, pointing at Young Kain, who bares his fangs and hisses. 

"We take him with us."

"What?" snap both Janos and Raziel, at once. I fold my arms decisively, while Young Kain eyes us all up as if trying to decide which one of us to eat first. I notice he is staring rather fixedly at Raziel in my body and I angrily swat him with my claws. 

"Down, you! Listen," I continue, in the face of stony glares from the other two, "what we have here is basically a point-and-press Sarafan killer. He's going to be useful. Psychotic and arrogant, but useful." I grab Young Kain's arm and drag him to his feet. "Now let's move! I don't want to wait around until another Raziel shows up and complicates things even further."

So we run. 

Raziel, stuck in a human body, hangs at the rear, grousing and whinging, while Young Kain (who seems to have adapted to his rather motley set of companions remarkably well) bounds ahead like a leopard on speed, springing from outcrop to outcrop across barely credible distances. It's only due to the fact that Raziel's body can glide that I'm keeping up. Janos cruises serenely at my side, his jet-feathered wings flicking and turning him against the air as we make our escape. 

A group of Sarafan ambush us as we're almost out of the castle grounds. I skid to a halt, the Reaver burning on my arm, and hear Janos roar angrily behind me. 

Raziel sticks two perfectly manicured nails in my mouth and whistles. "Hey! White-hair!"

This is directed at Young Kain, who is chasing rats on one of the upper levels. "Those men," Raziel calls in my high-pitched tones, "those men have taken the original Soul Reaver!"

Kain's eyes flare red, briefly. The Sarafan, unnerved, start to cluster together in a clanking knot of armour. "It's true," Raziel continues. "See that one at the back? He's got it stuck down his trousers right this minute. He said he was going to use it as a marshmallow fork at the next Sarafan family Barbeque."

There is a brief blur of movement, and a lot of screaming, as Kain descends from above in a towering rage.

"Gosh, you were right," says Raziel, strutting past me inscouciently, "point and press, marvellous."

We make it to the edges of Janos's stronghold, and at the Ancient vampire's advice, head for the Time-Streaming device. 

"If it really is Moebius who is responsible for your plight," Janos says, curling his lip as we pick our way through the swamp (from some way off, we can all hear the sounds of soldiers, mutants and attack dogs meeting various interesting and messy ends at the hands of Young Kain, who, so far as we can tell, hasn't had this much fun in years) "then we should seek him out and demand that he reverses the effect. Much as you make a wonderful vampire, Miss Angel, it is not your destiny to live this way. It is Raziel's."

Kain abruptly bounds into view, covered in blood, says, "Why haven't I been to this place before?!" and then leaps off in pursuit of ravens. I find myself hoping they are some of Vorador's minions and not just ordinary birds. 

Raziel, who is finding the swamp a real slog even though he has had the sense not to put my kitten-heels back on, says: "What if he can't?"

And on that glum note, we move on in silence, broken only by the deep, pleased chuckle of Kain as he finds some hapless prisoners to eat. 

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Sorry it was short! I'll do some more very soon. ^_^


	10. Circle of UnLife

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BODY-SWAP

Chapter 10

Circle of Un-Life

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All characters and locations from Nosgoth were created by Crystal Dynamics, Silicon Knights and Eidos. Go you guys! Make Soul Reaver 3 - you know you want to…

Thankyou to everyone who's read and reviewed. (Syvia - *hugs* Hydromatic? *sniggers…watches Kain fall, screeching, into a large paddling pool* Hydrophobic, more like. ^_^)This little tale is coming to a close, now. *sniff, sniff*. I hope you enjoyed it. 

I am the first to step out into the Time-Streaming chamber. Young Kain lopes at my side with an easy, rangy, predator's stride, his head up and eyes intent on his surroundings. Behind us, Janos Audron, old even among vampires, his wings furled close to his back and his shoulders hunched with tension. 

And behind Janos…

My body stumbles on a loose stone and Raziel nearly crashes to the floor in an ungainly manner. He uses a Nosgothian swearword that I've never even heard before and pushes crossly away from Janos, who has flung out an arm to support him.

"Get _off_, I'm all _right_, it's just this wretched female's body…"

Kain sniggers. He is an odd mix of age and immaturity, this one - half-full of wisdom from the centuries he has lived, and at the same time over-flowing with the arrogance of the young. I flick him in the ear with one of Raziel's talons, to keep him in his place, and he rumbles a growl in his porcelain throat, grinning. Damn. If I was in my own body, this could be construed as shameless flirting…

Damn.

"Looking for someone, demon?"

The voice from the shadows is instantly recognisable. My arm instinctively shoots out, just in time to feel Raziel thump into it as he surges forward in wrath. I restrain him with little difficulty - he is, after all, only human, now.

Moebius steps out from behind a pillar, and he is holding his staff raised like a weapon. Janos and Kain hiss like angry tom-cats and step forward to flank me. 

"Moebius," I begin, but the Time-Streamer isn't looking at me. He is approaching Young Kain, and his eyes are glowing green…

"Monster," he growls- and now his tones are deep, inhuman, completely unlike the obsequious slime of Moebius. "Monster, I killed you once. You and your kind are finished as soon as the Device fully activates…"

I may have been able to stop Raziel, but I haven't a hope in hell of stopping Young Kain. He sniffs the air, once, then goes berserk in a flurry of claws and teeth, far too fast for the eye to follow. Moebius tries to block with his staff, but lets out a shocked wail of distress as his limbs fail to withstand the vampire's onslaught. His expression is totally bemused, as if he can't understand what's happening -

I grab Janos by the wing-tip and drag him across to me. "Janos," I say, in low, urgent tones, "_that's not Moebius_. We have to get Kain off him before he kills him."

"So," I say, in my best mediating voice, "the last thing you remember is drilling the guards in Meridian…"

The creature in Moebius's body casts a wary glance at Kain, who is still struggling in Janos's implacable grip, then nods. "The Device was almost complete," it rumbles. "I was preparing to order its activation. The Glyph network was carefully guarded against any sabotage. And then I find myself here, in this old man's form -"

It shrugs aside a fold of Moebius's cloak and sighs. 

"What has become of my Nosgoth?" it despairs. 

"So Moebius has escaped to the body of the Sarafan Lord?" asks Raziel, absently chewing on a strand of my hair. I glare at him and he takes it out of my mouth in a hurry. "What now, then? Do we have to go all the way to Meridian? Your body is starting to get tired. I have a headache and I left your handbag behind on the bus."

"We can't leave things like this," I return, watching the despondent Sarafan get up and start pacing slowly. "Moebius has not only messed with my life, he's messed with causality. We have to stop him. What do you _mean_, you left my handbag on the bus? That thing cost a fortune…"

Kain throws off Janos's restraining arm and says: "Does this mean that Moebius has my sword now?"

"Strictly speaking -" Raziel begins, but I cut him off and nod enthusiastically at the white-haired vampire.

"Absolutely," I say. "Evil man. Took your sword. Let's go get him."

Meridian…

The steam-punk atmosphere of the city is almost intolerable as we step out of the convenient time-streaming portal and out into the mist. Young Kain, possibly show-boating for the guests, fades into insubstantial fog and sidles off. Janos, who seems so relaxed about all this time travel that he might have been taking a stroll through his own blood-filled castle, walks beside me as we approach the Industrial Quarter where Sebastian met his death at Kain's claws. 

"Where do we look?" asks Raziel, who I am convinced would have been taking pictures had he had a camera on him (yet another thing lost in my beloved handbag). "If I was an evil body-stealing Time-Streamer, where would I hide…?"

Kain appears out of a fog-bank to my left and narrowly misses getting a swipe from the wraith-blade in his gut - Raziel's body has instincts that react far faster than I could ever hope to control - and points rather smugly towards a large gate-house. A hulking form in heavy armour is gesticulating at a malfunctioning Glyph battery and shouting. Several slightly less bulky knights hurry to fetch a new one. 

"He's alone now," says Janos softly, from my right. "Miss Angel. In Raziel's body, with your unique connection to the Reaver, you are our best chance at defeating him. Kain will go with you. He wears the gem." 

I glance at the stone on Kain's armour. He nods, once, agreeing. And we rush the Sarafan Lord, together, Young Kain and I.

The Sarafan Lord says "Oof!" as Kain floors him with a pounce, and I quickly move to stand on the armoured cuirass, the wraith-blade pointed down at the exposed nape of the man's neck. "Don't move," I warn, in Raziel's best uber-threatening manner. "Moebius, I know it's you in there. I demand you put me back in my own body. This cowl is starting to chafe."

"Who are you people?" comes the somewhat muffled reply. "This place is an insane asylum. I do my best to organise the work-force in a pro-active manner, and this is the thanks I get…"

I exchange a look with Kain, who shrugs, as if to say, _these Sarafan. Go figure._

" 'Organise the work-force in a pro-active manner'?" I repeat, sarcastically. 

"Doesn't sound like Moebius," says Raziel, wandering forward now that any possible danger seems to have been averted. "Sounds more like…"

"Angel?" says the Sarafan Lord, somewhat querulously. "Is that you? VladimirsAngel?"

I lower the wraith-blade and step down. "We're too late," I say, as Janos joins us and Young Kain rips the Soul Reaver from the unresisting hand of the Sarafan Lord, "Moebius has moved on again. And this time I'm positive I know where he's gone."

The interlude that followed I am sure I will remember for the rest of my life. It's a memory I will lovingly store up in white velvet and rose-petals, carefully placed in a box in my closet to keep safe for all time. Maybe this makes me cruel and heartless - or maybe it just makes me one of those people who want to remember their dreams. Even the ones that aren't all kittens and cotton-candy.

In Raziel's dilapidated body I led two vampires back into my world on a grey, overcast afternoon in early April, 2003. I walked them into my office and up the stairs. Janos and Kain, beautiful as tigers and twice as deadly, and behind them, the somewhat weary but determined-looking figure of VladimirsAngel, carrying her ruined shoes in one muddied hand.

Some people ran screaming from our path. Some simply froze and stared, their coffee forgotten, papers falling like cherry-blossom in a storm from their limp hands. Were we a publicity stunt for a new movie? Was it Halloween already?

But for some reason, no-one dared stop us to ask. Can't think why that would be, can you?

I marched up to my boss's desk, Raziel's hooves cutting deep into the carpet-tile. I reached down. And in a beautiful moment that every downtrodden office dogsbody dreams of, I grasped Boss's collar in my claws and hauled her out of her chair as my co-workers fled their desks in panic.

Eye-to-eye with both of our enemies, I cocked Raziel's head to one side. "Moebius," I said, almost lovingly. "Tag. You're it. Now give us our bodies back." Janos and Kain leant over my captive and grinned, full-fanged and menacing.

And I had that wonderful few moments as Moebius's impotent fury creased Boss's face into a terrified scowl, before the world began to fade around me and I felt my own pink fingers drop my shoe-straps as our bodies swapped back…

Darkness. 

"Do you think your boss will be angry with you?"

Raziel's voice, from my left. I snuggle deeper into my duvet with a pleased sigh and grin to myself in the blackness. 

"No. I don't think she'll even admit it happened. Vampires and body-swaps - these things just don't exist in her world. She'll probably put it down to a tray of bad sushi and never speak of it again."

Silence as Raziel thinks about this, then: 

"I am glad to be back in my body, you know. Even though it's dead, and not very pretty - it's _mine_. And I missed it."

I reach out, blind, in the night, feel for his shoulder where he lies next to me on the mattress, and pat it. "I know. I missed my body, too."

"Do you think Moebius will be happy in the Eternal Prison?" asks Raziel, sounding pleased with himself.

I shrug. "Don't see why not. He can spend happy afternoons playing cribbage with Magnus."

"What do you think he hoped to achieve by doing this to us?"

I consider for a moment. "It's possible he had plans to disrupt the path of your destiny by replacing you with me. I could never have followed the path of your life, you know. I'm only human, and perhaps he thought that if he abandoned me in Nosgoth I would perish without ever interfering in his games."

There is a heavy pause as both Raziel and I think about this weighty motive.

"It's possible he's just insane, of course," says Raziel, philosophically.

I look at the digital clock on my bedside table. "Crap. After midnight. I have to work in the morning. G'night, Raz."

A set of cool, smooth claws close on my shoulder, briefly, then release. "Goodnight, Angel."

I turn my head against the pillow and close my eyes.

"Goodnight, Raziel," from the other end of the bed. 

"Goodnight, Janos," says Raziel, wearily. 

"Goodnight, Angel," from my right.

I sigh and push some stray strands of pure, bone-white hair out of my face. "Good_night_, Kain. And move over, would you? You're stealing all the duvet."

So gradually, I drift off to sleep. Sometimes I have these dreams, you know…?

I awaken, suddenly, stretched out on a plain wooden couch, and sit up with a gasp. A female vampire with ridiculously oversized breasts restrained by skimpy lilac underwear is staring down at me and smiling. 

"I am glad that you are with us again," she says. "Know that your name is Kain…"

Oh, _no_. Here we go again…

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And so it ends! (or begins. Take your pick!) Thank you so much for reading. ^_^ 


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